This Darkness that becomes Us
by lyresdream
Summary: When the teleportation machine breaks down, Roger creates a new one using Yuri as the guniea pig. Meanwhile, Harry is cornered by Voldemort, but both are in for a nasty shock. A Shadow Heart/HP crossover.


Hello everyone, lyresdream here. This little fic has been stuck in my head for so long, that I finally decided to end my suffering and write it. Quite amazing, this fic seemed to have a life of its own. I'm quite proud of this one, and I hope you all enjoy it. I'm a big fan of Shadow Hearts and Harry Potter crossovers, and I think that Yuri is one amazing character. So enjoy the fic and if you would be so kind, please review. Thank you.

Any mistakes are mine, including misspelling of spells.

Disclaimer: I do not own Shadow Hearts or Harry Potter. Though I really wish it was otherwise.

* * *

It was simple. The dark lord wanted to confront the final barrier between eternal life and death, Harry Potter. Harry was only a teenager that honestly should have grown up with his school work and being grounded for staying up too late. Maybe in another time. But not in this one. When he was a year old, his parents were killed and his mother, having sacrificed herself to protect him, gave him protection from their murderer, Voldemort. Power hungry and determined to take down anyone who opposed him at the same time afraid of a prophesy of his downfall from the hands of the infant, he calculated and planned to kill everyone in the household, ruthlessly weeding out information of their whereabouts. Finally, he received the power to enter their home, and when finished killing the parents, he turned his malicious wand against the boy, intending to finish him off with a killing spell. The spell backfired due to the wards the death of Lily Potter created, and Voldemort was diminished to a shadow of his former power, and forced to go into hiding for eleven years. Slowly, but surely, he gained power. In Harry's fourteenth year, Voldemort lured him to unwillingly participate in a ritual that would restore Voldemort to his former power.

When Voldemort cast the killing spell when Harry was a child, a piece of his mind warped with the boys, connecting them. Harry had found he could catch glimpse of Voldemorts actions and when they were extreme, his emotions. Voldemort was not aware of the profound connection until Harry's fifteenth year, which resulted in the tragic death of his godfather, Sirus Black. Due to the depth of the mental connection, Voldemort correctly determined that Harry's blood will not only make immune the blood wards his mother provided, but he would rise to his past glory. The ritual worked too well. Voldemort surpassed his original powers, and he deduced that it was Harry's blood that caused such tremendous success. Though reason why it worked so well and what consequences could it possibly bring remained shadowed. Voldemortsimply wanted more of Harry's blood to fulfill one of his ultimate goals; everlasting life. If he had to kill him, so be it. The fact that Harry had foiled plot after plot only made the thought of catching him all the more sweeter. So with a simple illusion trap, Harry had touched a port key that delivered him to Voldemort and his followers, the Death Eaters, into a graveyard.

* * *

Harry rose shakily to his feet, eyes darting frantically to the side. Death Eaters surrounded him in a ring with the bane of his existance not more then fifteen yards away. The dark arts have not been kind to Voldemort. His face was paleand scaly, eyes slit like a cat and he didn't even have a nose, just two thin slits like a snakes. Long pointed teeth like a shark were bared in a welcome smile. He stretched his arms out like a ring master presenting a new novelty.

"Welcome...Harry Potter."

Thrusting his hand in his robe, Harry pulled a thin, scarred stick. He gripped it like a knife. Everyone around him was holding a stick, each one a little different from the next. The black robed Death Eaters hold them loosely at their sides, their skull shaped masks hiding their emotions as well as their identity. The only one pointing a wand at him was Voldemort himself.

"So what do you want this time?" Harry asked, carefully watching him. Voldemort's eyes dilated slightly, giving away his eagerness. "Care to take a guess Potter?" sounding like he hold all the cards. Harry didn't move except his lips. "Take a guess? Sure, love to. You want to kill me?" Harry replied

"Recuroso!" A blue spell shot out of the tip of Voldemort's wand and headed to him. Harry slashed the air with his wand crying out "Expelmuses!" The spell rebounded into a tree, causing it to explode and rain splinters. "Not quite Potter. You haven't outlived your usefulness just yet. Cruico!" Instead of deflecting it, he dodged it. A gravestone cracked in two at the impact of the spell.

Harry thrust his wand out, "Umbrelka!" Vines shot out of the tip of his wand and burst to Voldemort. "Ricard expel!" Voldemortreturned. The vines burst into flames and fell down halfway to their target, already withering to black stumps. "Enough," the dark lord said, "Potter, as amusing as your little antics have proven, I have other business to conclude tonight. So I'll give you a fair chance to surrender."

Harry didn't bother to hide his scoff. "Not likely." As one, the Death Eaters shifted, some hesitantly pointing their wand at him. "Put down your wands you fools, do you think he can possibly harm me?" he shouted twisting to look at them. As he shouted, Harry had formulated a plan. If he could just find the portkey that led him here, he could escape.

He had come from the Shrieking Shack. He knew it was foolish, but he just wanted time alone with his thoughts. Then Ron appeared an gave him a book. It wasn't until he felt the familiar jerk around his pelvis when he realized that someone must have used a polyjuice potion. Though what he would do when he returned to the Shack, he didn't know.

With Voldemort distracted momentarily, he turned around and ran to where the book had dropped. Heart thrumming in his throat, he whipped his head back and forth, searching for the book. His breath left him in a rush. The book wasn't there. Obviously. Voldemort wouldn't fall for the same tactic twice.

A sensous chill crawled over his shoes. Something so inconvenient shouldn't have been important, but somehow it was. Harry didn't move. He couldn't. Black shadows slid across his shoes and slowly up his legs. Shadows skirted around his legs, traveling to his torso. Darkness touched him in its icy grip.

A whistling sound of a spell coming closer and a spell hit him square in the back. The impact knocked him several feet in the air. Harry saw a large gravestone seem to fly straight at him, which he knew was ridiclous, because he was flying toward it, but there was nothing he could do and he felt his skull crack at the edge of the coarse concrete. Pain stabbed his head, blood pounded in his ears and he no longer cared that Voldemort and his cronies were there. The pain had sapped his will. Time became meaningless as he laid there, pain overwhelming everything. Slowly, Harry clenched his fingers in the dirt, bracing himself to get up. Graves blocked his view of the Death Eaters, but he could hear the shuffling feet and Voldemort ordering, "I said put your wands away! Wyatt, check him. I won't risk losing everything because he is delicate." A set of footsteps started his way.

Harry jerked himself up with arms and saw the world tilt and double and miraculously, wonderfully, he started to feel numb. He didn't know if the knock on his head screwed up his brain, or he was dying. His arms wobbled with the effort of holding him up. This was it. He was going to die and Voldemort would win. He was going to die and Voldemort was...going....to......

The world dimmed, shapes shifting, molding into one another. Everything was turning gray. He collasped. Everything turned black.

* * *

"Your sure it works?" The man asked skeptically, eyeing what looked like a half-assembled machine constructed by a ten year old. "Of course it does you ingrate! This machine will get you anywhere you want!"

"What the hell happened to your old machine, the one that got us to the floating castle?" An old man in a yellow jump suit and top hat the same color coughed delicately in his fist. "Yes...well...er...that one was er...damaged in a slight little experiment." The young man furrowed a brow. A strong contrast to the old man's bright yellow suit, his own taste in clothing differed greatly to maximize usefulness in monster hunting, at the same time displaying the more anti-authority part of his personality. His red shirt remained its bright cherry red and suited his black leather pants well. White smokey light flared from the bottom of his jeans, weaving up the pant leg in vague tendrils. Over his shirt was his trademarked brown trench coat.  
As always, his hands were encased in well-worn gloves, always well oiled and taken care of, as is the case of those in his profession. Despite the care, faded splotches of blood were splattered here and there from the more easily bled fiends.

Yuri's clothing fit his style of living. His clothing was useful in monster hunting and hinted at the power of darkness that was embedded in his soul. Tucked safely in his specially designed coat pocket were long sheaths of claw-like knives that fit snugly in the leather gloves and would protruded from his fists. They were his preferred weapon of choice. He wore only one piece of what some may call jewelery. His talisman his father gave him. A marble sized sphere clutched in a piece of rock that curled around half of the glass ball and ended in a sharp pointed tail. Once, this talisman kept track of the malice that Yuri accumulated from the death of monsters by changing color but now remained a content, blue glow. He no longer wore it out of necessity, he wore it for what it reminded him.

"Experiment? Hey...wasn't that experiment you tried to beam back one of those monsters from the floating castle?" The sheepish look was his answer. "You did! What the hell were you thinking?! One of those little cockroach bastards tried to get in my sleeping bag you half-baked moron!"

"Yuri, please! I am a scientist! It is my duty to take advantage of such a rare chance to look at these otherworldybeings." The old man crossed his arms defiantly, intending to meet the young man's outraged look with a defiant look, but got sidetracked with staring at the wall a little to the right of the boy.

"Er...yes...well, say where is Alice and Margerate? I haven't seen them for a whilenow." Roger asked a little too desperately. The young man sighed and ruffled his short brown hair.

"Yeah, Margeratesaid she wanted to take Alice out for a little girl time. 'No boys allowed Yuri! Just us girls!'" he mimicked disgustedly. "That didn't stop her from taking Keith with her." "Yes, well, they needed a break any how." Roger said,  
a hand stroking his pointed goatee. The wiry old man eyed Yuri. "So where's Zuzhen and Hailey?" Yuri shrugged his shoulders. "They went looking down by those ruins. Zuzhen thought he could find something. Hailey followed him probably because he was bored." Roger nodded. "Zuzhen's got a good eye for treasure hunting. If there's something down there, he'll find it."

Roger walked past Yuri. Yuri turned to follow him. The metal walkway clanked dully from Roger's footsteps. Yuri stayed where he was. Roger's ermm...house...may still resemble a spaceship, but his home had with more bobby traps then the floating castle. Never mess with a four hundred year old alchemist.

Nearly everything in this metal room was some sort of gadget or a half-assembled gadget. The machine that Roger had built was centered in the middle of the room, right where the last traveling machine had been and the machine that powered it was just off the metal walkway. Similar to a workout machine for running, more then once Roger made him power up whatever the hell he was cooking. Wires and pipes stuck out here and there. Yuri eyed a blue wire dangling from a blinking box until he felt the uncomfortable sensation of being watched.

Roger stared at him. "Well? What are you waiting for? Power her up!"

"What?! Dammit Roger, haven't you ever heard of batteries?"

"Of course I did! Why do you think I invented the runner-edge? Unlike batteries, this baby has a unlimited power supply."

Yuri choked. "B.S. That's only because you force me on this thing." Roger blinked. "What's your point?" At Yuri's disbelieving stare, he continued, "you never run out of energy do you? Besides, it's keeping you in shape. Don't want to wake up one day and see a rounded pig in the mirror."

"What are you talking about? I'm always in shape you bloody lunatic."

Roger pointed an accusing finger at him. "Not if you keep shoving those pastries in your face! I saw what you did to my week supply of desserts and my wedding cake."

Throwing his hands up in defense, Yuri countered, "Hey, I was hungry, and there was nothing else in the fridge. Get over the stupid wedding cake already."

"Those pasteries were specially ordered! You know how much a Belgein croissant costs these days?"

Yuri gave him a weird look. "Those croissants were glazed and my blood sugar was low, but that doesn't explain why you ordered a triple-decker vanilla wedding cake with extra frosting."

Arms crossed, Roger sniffed pointedly in the air, "I've never went to a wedding before and I wanted to know what a wedding cake tasted like."

Yuri raised an eyebrow. "With the bride and groom figurines on top?"

"If you lived to be 400, you'd understand." Roger said outraged.

Eyebrow still raised, Yuri summed all the words he needed to tell Roger what he thought of him. "Uh-huh." Not a lot needed to be said.

"Get on the machine." Roger snapped irritably. Shaking his head, Yuri complied. The traction creaked as he slowly started to pick up a pace. The rubber walkway was too bouncy, Yuri decided, running at a dead run now.

A faint electric blue light glowed in an orb above the contraption. In full scientist mode, Roger ignored Yuri and watched the orb glow brighter. "It needs more energy! Run faster." he barked. 'Bite me.' Yuri groused, but did as Roger asked.

Sparks of energy discharged from the orb, filling the room with it's blue light. "Almost there!" Roger yelled excitedly. Growling in irritation, Yuri bowed his head and ran faster. The orb was glowing brighter and brighter until it hurt to look at it. Then unexpectedly, a white light flashed, bathing the room in it's radiance before dying down to a mild, steady white glow. Yuri slowed and stopped, watching the orb while catching his breath. He stepped off the runner-edge to stand by Roger. "Two minutes and thirteen seconds to power it up." Roger said, eyeing a stopwatch in his hand that somehow seemed to materialize out of thin air. "Not your best timing." he added as a afterthought.

Still staring at the white orb Yuri said, "Your running on that thing from now on." he managed between breaths. "It's finally up and running!" Roger cackled with glee, clapping his hands together. "Now all we need to do is test it!"

'No.' Yuri's mind supplied without permission.

"Yuri! How would you like to give it a test drive?" Ugh...

"NO." Yuri said, crossing his arms.

Now it was Roger's turn to cross his arms. "What? Why not?" he demanded.

"You test it. Your the one who made it." Yuri glared at him.

"Absolutely not. I'm the only one who knows who to work the machine." Roger wagged his finger in Yuri's direction.

"And I'm the one whose planning to live for another day. You lived a long fulfilling life. Let someone else have a turn at it. I'm not doing it."

A few moments were spent in silence. Then a mischievous glint came in Roger's eye. "All right." Giving a dramatic shrug with a equally dramatic sigh, Roger turned his back on Yuri, "I was planning this as a suprise, but I suppose it won't work."

Casting a indifferent face to the machine, Yuri asked, "What surprise would that be?"

He couldn't see the smile on Roger's face, but he could hear it in his voice. "I was going to send everyone to the Mandrian Island, but I guess we can't do that. But, oh, wait!" Roger turned around, a finger pointing to heaven as if a idea had struck him then and there. "We don't need the machine! Why we could just take a boat!"

'Oh no.' Yuri could feel his face drain of color. "Uhh..what? Whoa, whoa...who said anything about any island? We're not going to any island." Yuri said the last part as more of a question then an assertion. "Oh really?" Roger asked innocently. "Well I'm sure Alice wanted to go on vacation. Who doesn't love the beach on a warm, sunny, balmy island? Of course the boat ride will take five days, but we can sit on deck to watch the ocean."

The innards of his stomach was churning just thinking about it. 'Five...days?'

"Of course," Roger continued mercilessly, "the waves do get a little high this time of year. You wouldn't mind a bumpy ride would you?"

'Five days?!' his mind supplied a little desperately. The waves. The high, salty, briny, waves. The rocking boat, the crowded deck, the heaving of his stomach content.

"Fine, I'll do it." Yuri muttered, trying to settle his stomach.

"Excellent!" Roger beamed, clapping his hands together. Yuri walked underneath the glowing orb a little hurriedly. "You won't regret this Yuri. Think of the scientific progress that you will make! The possibilitys, the potential..."Roger's grin faltered a little at Yuri's glare. "Think how brave Alice will think you are!"

Yuri scowled, but asked, "So where are you beaming me to?"

Roger walked by the runner-edge, as not to be accidentally beamed along with Yuri. "Just the outside of my house. If, I mean, (when) you have been transported, we can test it out for greater distances..." Roger trailed off at the look on Yuri's face.

The old man coughed delicately into his fist, "Yes, well, we can discuss that in a moment. All right orb, take him away!"

Yuri's eyes widen as he realized that there really wasn't any control panel for the machine. "Baaac-" he only got so far before the orb pulsed and shot a beam of light at Yuri. Roger grinned as Yuri disappeared as if he was suddenly snuffed of existence.

Really, he was getting to old to be the guneia pig. Besides, he owed Yuri for the wedding cake. Sighing happily, he turned to the door expectantly.

* * *

A sharp pain throbbed in his skull in time with his heartbeat. Yuri groaned softly. Hell of a thing to wake up to. As soon as he found Bacon, the yellow painted parakeet is going to have his ass kicked. Strange though. You'd think that after what happened, he would be in a bed hospitalized. Preferably by Alice. But from what little knowledge that was slowly making itself known though the headache, he was laying on the ground on a bed of grass on his stomach. Granted it was soft grass, but there was going to be hell to pay as soon as he could move without feeling like his was head splitting in two. And he felt sick. It was probably just the zap, but his wholebody felt achy and weird. It felt wrong. Gradually, he realized that there were people who were talking. Through the pain in his head, he slowly became aware of the conversation. "-le, check his pulse."

"But what if he's faking?" a thick voice asked slowly. Yuri resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Even through a headache that felt that had been induced by a sledge hammer, he could tell this wasn't the brightest star in the sky. Apparently the big shot agreed if his voice was any inclination. "That's why I said check his pulse and see if hes dead or merely unconscious you idiot!" the sharp voice whipped out in a crack. Ignoring the voices, Yuri slowly got to his knees. The voices stopped yammering. Eyes tightly shut, he steadied himself with one hand and clenched his temple with the other. Deep breaths, just like Alice taught you. he reminded himself. Oh God, where was Alice and her white magic when you needed her? Just one quick Cure, that's all he was asking.

"I see you are as hard-headed as your father," Big Shot's chilly voice said softly. Through the pain, Yuri sneered lightly, head still bowed. Even though the odds of landing somewhere where someone knew his father was unlikely, he wasn't about to take any insults lying down. Pushing his pain aside, he got to his feet.

"Unless you want me to rip you a new one, I'd suggest you shut the hell up." Yuri said through clenched teeth. Strange, his voice sounded a little warbly, like a teenagers. Reaching deep within his consciousness where (Holy Power) resided he silently asked for a cure. Yuri felt the light fusion monster grant his request as the pain in his head drained and completely disappeared.

"What did you say?!" Big Shot snarled. 'Why does everyone go deaf around me?' Yuri thought amusingly. He opened his eyes and felt them shoot up of their own record in surprise as he took in the scene around him. In a graveyard, a giant ring of robed figures, each equipped with a grinning skull mask surrounded him and a humanoid monster. Slits for nose, eyes like a cat, smooth scaly skin mostly covered by a dark red robe. He quickly deduced that he was the leader. Malicious aura excluded from each of the robed figures, varying from person to person. But cat-eyes, though he didn't have a mask, he was in the most desperate need of one, gave off a pure, concentrated evil. The same kind of evil fiends have. Each figure, including the monster in question, was pointing a long, pointy stick at him like a sword.

Yuri observed all this and let out a groan. "Not another cult." All right, what the hell was this? This was not fair. He had just got done saving the world from a extraterrestrial from an obliterating end, ending the tirade of a four hundred year old warlock bent on killing all humans and travelled through a bobby-trapped castle floating in the sky only to deal with a group of cross-dressing idiots who were trying so hard to pretend that they were evil looking, it was sad. You'd think the least amount of thing fate could do, was to give you a little break...

"I will not be ignored!" But no...it was always do this Yuri, fight this, defeat this, by the way, you have twenty monsters inside your head, you wouldn't mind having more would you?

"Potter!" It hasn't even been a week yet since he sent the floating castlepacking...Wait, what? Whirling around, he turned to face Big Shot, and the momentum threw him forward. Yuri staggered but caught himself. From this angle, he stared at legs. Or what should have been his legs. But it wasn't his jeans, or his legs. For one, he never wore dark blue jeans, another these legs were scrawny from lack of training. What the hell? Using a gravestone to steady himself, he stared at his hands in widening horror. Much like his legs, there was no familiarity. There were no gloves on these appendages. The fingers were long, but the hand was smaller then his own. Umfamiliar scratches and scars on this bare skin. One of the oddest scars was very faintly etched into the skin 'I will not tell lies.'

He knew that bodily exchange was possible. Alice had once gone in a bathroom in a bar and emerged trading bodies with an old woman. The old woman was a sorceress, and as far as he knew, only people with vast amounts of magical stamina or knowledge could even do such a thing. Like Zuzhen and....

and...

_'Baaaaaacccccccoooonn!!!!'_ That stupid painted sunflower was going to get it. Bodily exchange. Him, and he didn't even know when (he wouldn't think of 'if') he would go back in his body. From all of this, he had one thing to say. This had better not have been about that stupid wedding cake.

Obviously Big Shot didn't know what was going on. 'Boy, this kid must have gotten in pretty serious fights to get in this kind of mess' he thought silently. He had already deduced that he was in a teenager's body. A teenager's body. Oh mercy, how the hell did it come to this?

Infuriated that Yuri hadn't responded to any of his commands, Voldemort threw a spell "Recruso!" whirling towards him. Still caught up in his throes of anger, Yuri barely noticed the red light until it was mere inches away from his face. Blinking, he dodged the fiery light. That jarred him back into reality. Big Shot was after his attention, and he got it. Yuri studied him again, more slowly. He cracked his knuckles. The popping sound unnaturally loud in the silence.

"Hey wait a minute, you look familiar," Yuri said, squinting his eyes. This eyesight was terrible. Something the round glasses perched on his new nose confirmed. The snake-man narrowed his eyes in confusion, slightly taken back. Yeah, take away the robe, add white hair around the sides of the head. But the eyes were small and wolf-like, not glassy and bulgy, and the hands were webbed-free. But throwing a spell at him pissed him off, so he decided to have a little fun. Yuri snapped his fingers.

"Your one of those sewer monsters! How the hell did you learn how to speak?" he asked in mock-astonishment. Barely managing to supress his grin, Yuri watched the monsters face blotch in a sickly shallow color.

"What did you say?" he hissed softly in rage. "Yeah, one of you guys tried to take a bite out of Margeratte last time I ran into one of you." Giving an exaggerated shrug, he shook his head. "But I guess your not in the same level as the last one. Your a lot more uglier."

The monster quivered in rage, his pupils contracted to mere slits.

"Your asking for an earlier death then I am willing to give you Potter." the monster snarled.

"You know, everyone here is wearing a mask. Why aren't you? Cause I have a feeling that your the one who needs it." The monster snapped, fairly spitting in his rage. "Goyle, Crabbe, seize him!" Two unnaturally large goons in the customes jumped forward and came toward him. Forgetting he wasn't wearing his trench coat, he pulled aside his cloak and reached for his knives.. He glanced down in surprise as his fingers brushed a thin cotton and more noticeably, no claws. Crap, he had forgotten. Keeping his knives close to him had become second nature to him. Being without their comforting weight made him uneasy. He looked up and saw they were almost upon him. Yuri narrowed his eyes as they reached for him. Their was a brief blur as his hands jammed certain pressure points. The two collapsed over each other, both unconscious.

Yuri lifted his eyes to the leader. "Anyone else?" he asked quietly. The leader in question looked at him in wide eyed suprise that quickly faded to the all to familiar look of rage. "Stefen, Voltur, Gangren, Wron, get him, NOW!" he roared, pointing to Yuri. Wary of the sudden skills that the teenager had managed to develop, but even more unwilling to disobey, four more stepped out of line and came toward him, intent on bringing him down. Yuri took a step back to balance into a martial arts stance. He punched one in the adam's apple, elbowed one in the tender part of the chest cavity and slammed his fist into the masks nose as the man jerked downward in pain. The others he snap kicked one in the jaw, jumped up and brought his elbow smashing into his face. The last he slapped ones nose up with the palm of his hand, bringing his knee to grind painfully in the man's groin. All collapsed in agony, some no longer in the land of the waking. Yuri stepped over the writhing figures. "I should probably know your name before I kill you, though it's not really going to make much of a difference later." he said calmly.

The monster looked torn between building rage and complete confusion. "Lord Voldemort," he stated, baring his pointed teeth. "as you have known ever since I killed your parents sixteen years ago."

Yuri raised an eyebrow. Sixteen years? He studied a hand silently. This body barely looked past the throes of the teenage akward stage. Sixteen years. This boy wouldn't have been more then just a kid, no, just a baby if what this guy said about his host's body parents were true. "Really?"

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, eyeing him as if for the first time. The robed figures stood statue still, barely even breathing. "Your not Potter."

Rolling his eyes, Yuri looked up. "What tipped ya?" Voldemort merely sneered. "It doesn't matter who you are. I will find out who you are and how you managed to possess the body later. But for now, I need that boy's blood."

Disgusted, Yuri made a face. "Blood? Buddy, I don't know the whole story here, but you are definitely, not taking this guys blood, and you can count on that."

To Yuri's mild surprise, Voldemort smiled. "You don't have a choice. Either give up now, or I will make it...unpleasant."

Yuri's eyes became a sheen of ice. "You don't even know the meaning of the word."

His lips drew back in a half smile and half snarl. "Unglasco!" he cracked out like a whip, his wand snapping with him. A steel colored sphere of magic slid off the wand and flew to him before he could say another world and sliced into his arm, cutting bone and marrow. Yuri gave a start in surprise and pain, clutching the arm below the cut. He didn't like how it was holding as he gripped the limb. He looked down and realized why. The arm split open in a gash a little below the shoulder socket. The bone had been cut and pulverized where the spell hit it. The arm was literally hanging by a few tendons that threatened to snap. He gripped the arm, and resisting the urge to scream in white hot agony, pulled the arm off.

There were muffled gasps behind masks, even Voldemort looked suprised. Without taking his eyes off the snake like features, he held the torn limb back to its socket. The flesh near the wound and in the torn limb bubbled and seethed, as if unsure what form what to take. Then skin grabbed skin as the limb literally reattached itself.

Yuri spread out his arms in a silent 'ta da'. As one, the customes took a step back. Voldemort looked at the arm in uncontainted shock. "Your not human." Voldemort whispered. Yuri shook his head. "No, just different." Voldemort lifted his eyes to stare at him. "No, not even Potter's blood is worth it. You won't leave this place alive." Yuri pressed his lips together. This guy was pretty dense. Then, "Aveda keveda!"

A bright, bright, green light, grass green, no, tree green so bright it hurt his eyes flew and this time shot right into his chest.

Voldemortgrinned in triumph as the figure of Potter collapsed. At long last, his long sought after victory was complete. He would rule the wizardingworld, the way he had always knew he would fifty years ago. The one obstacle that ever brought a serious opposition was gone, destroyed with a flick of a wand. A giddy feeling over took him. He did it. He had finally achieved the ultimate victory. He threw back his head and laughed; high, cruel, and insanely happy.

"What so funny?"

Voldemort snapped out of reverie and saw Potter brushing his arm off and glaring at him like he was mildly annoyed. No.

Of course. Potter had already dodged the killing curse once before. His body may have just became immune to it, like a small dose of poison that is injected in the body, and the body is no longer vulnerable to it. He gripped his wand tightly. He didn't need a killing curse to kill him. There were other ways. There always were.

Yuri got up at the sound of a merry laugh. He braced his palms at either side of his head and got up. "What's so funny?" he asked, brushing his arm off any specs of dirt. The laughter died off in a croak. Yuri didn't blame him. That spell had the feel of death in every ray of light in cast.

"Let's just say the darkness likes me." he said, granting him a slow grin. Suddenly he reached deep inside him, past the exterior of his mind, down into the graveyard, reaching into the darkness so deep and dark, it threatened to swallow him whole. He mentally smirked, welcoming the darkness like a old friend. And in a way, it was.

Death Emperor....

His body pulsed with a blinding light, momentarily blinding all. When it had faded, leathery black skin stretched taut over his new form. Solid black talons served as his feet. Skin tearing, bone renching strong claws tipped where his once pink human hands were. Leathery black wings extended and then folded to settle against his back. But it was the face that was the disturbing of all. Large pitiless black pits stared at Voldemort, knife sharp teeth baring in a grin that sent ice cold shivers down the backs of even the most brave.

Death Emperor made the first move. Folding his arms across his chest, his leathery wings snapped over his front for a moment. He extended his talons and wings stimountantously then resumed his original position, all in one smooth move. A gurgling ball of haze expelled from somewhere by his chest and plunged into Voldemort. Voldemort flinched and tried to take a step back, but not before a great deal of his mana stamina had been extracted. Just as Voldemort stepped back, green sparks shot upward from the ground to head level around Yuri, all magic completely replenished from his earlier healing. "Kill it!" Voldemort screamed, rage, confusion and a spark of fear in his eyes. Everyone's wand manifested to point at him, but mainly out of fear then obedience. A few of the customes disappeared with a faint _pop_. The disappearing act seemed to fluster and enrage the monster. Voldemortsnarled, "Kill it or I will kill you!" This prompted a reaction. With a great shout, a barrage of curses and spells were shouted, the colorful magic striking his pitted leathery skin. Skin split, but did not bleed. Death Emperor bared his teeth as a particularly nasty set of spells hit his more vulnerable wings, doing nothing but numbing them.

What the customes didn't realize was that Death Emperor was the element dark. Pain, agony, and fear were his meat and drink. Particuarally loathing. Spells mastered and conjured out of the darkness of their hearts were harmless to him. He was darkness. The irony in this that they would never realize was that they were too evil to hurt him. All they could focus on when cornered were the blackest of sorcery. Light was his enemy, light was his defeat, but they would never realize that. They spent years destroying with darkness, and now the very darkness that gave them their greatest strength was their greatest weakness. It couldn't have been more delightful.

Death Emperor flapped his wings to shake off the numbing and crossed his arms over his chest, folding his wings around him. Digging his taloned feet into the earth, he crunched and jumped high in the air, snapping his wings and arms out in perfect harmony. More customes _popped_ out of existence, a few more then the last time. A black and white scroll appeared behind and above the still airborne fiend. Circles connected in a neat pattern displayed in black and white, one circle in the first row, then two in the second, three in the third, two in the fourth and one in the fifth row all connected. A dark light, somehow bright, shone out of the first circle, then at the bottom circle, then in rapid session the circle burst into the dark light. When the last circle was lit, their light blazed in in a new raw intensity. There were more faint _pops_that attested to more disappearing customes. Now there were little more then half of the supporters. Voldemort didn't even notice.

Just before he released the wave of magic, he relished the pure power that was his, the singing strength in his sinewy limbs, the coursing anderaline in his veins. He reveled in the delightful urge to kill, rip, shred, destory that he was about to slake. Then the sorcery within pulsed and he released. A ring of dark power broke loose, catching every living creature in it's devouring, rapid outburst. All stumbled back. Some fell. Some fell and didn't get up. Some of the skull-wearing masks screamed in agony, the concentrated evil too much for their tender human flesh. Several more disappeared. But they were an mere distraction. The only one who wasn't screaming, clutching open wounds, unconscious or worse was Voldemort. Even so he wasn't looking so good. He was clutching his wand so tightly his hand had paled to bone white. Death Emperor landed on the ground lightly, his wings beating gently.

"I'll kill you!" Voldemort screamed, panting wildly. "I"ll kill you just like I killed everyone who has dared to stand in my way!" Claws clenched and flexed, his wings tense. "You will DIE!" he bellowed. Snarling, Death Emperor made a move toward him, a claw raised. "Cruico!" Voldemort shouted. Skidding to a half, Death Emperor cast his own dark spell, casting with the palm of his hand toward the snake-like monster. Darkness expelled from his hand and met the green spell in midair. They merged, compressed and exploded. Black and green tendrils whipped into the air and ground, throwing a cloud of dust and dirt up and effectively blinding everyone. Through squinted eyes, Death Eater could make out the blinded snake-fiend holding an arm over his eyes. Even as he watched, the monster flicked his wrist and disappeared. The dust settled, exposing the terrain for his viewing. Baring his teeth, he surveyed the fallen customes. No one was standing. He was unable to tell if they were merely asleep or if his magic had imposed a worser fate for their pathetic souls. A bright light encompassed Death Emperor and faded, a human Yuri in a jet black-haired teenager's body standing in its place. Yuri rubbed his forehead, looking at the battleground. His, or Harry's body felt depleted. 'Guess I shouldn't fusion in a stranger's body.' The night sky shone brilliantly in it's display of stars. Yuri studied the constellations, trying to find any resemblance, but he didn't have enough familiarity with his own sky to find any. To him, stars were stars.

The scent of freshly dug earth and grass was strong. Yuri looked down at the gravestones with mixed feelings. Shaking his head, he tried to think. 'Now what?' That cult leader wannabe, Voldemort, had disappeared before he could do any serious damage. Figures. He sat down heavily on the edge of a angel statue, ignoring the weak groans of customes coming to. Well, he might was well find that snake-fiend and go monster hunting while he was here. It was something to focus on until Roger got his act together and got him out of here. He sighed and looked at his unfamiliar jeans. He really wished he had his knuckle blades with him. Or at least his leather gloves. It was amazing the lack of weapons on his persona could keep him feeling so off-balanced. He was just following that train of thought when his head gave a lurch and the world went white.

* * *

"Yuri! Yuri! Wake up! (Yuri!)" Roger leaned over Yuri's limp form, shaking his shoulders. With no response forthcoming, Roger gripped Yuri's collar in one hand and slapped him with the other just as Yuri woke up.

"OUCH! Dammit Roger, what the hell?!" "Yuri! Your alive!" Roger joyfully exclaimed. Yuri glared over Rogers relieved face, trying to focus on what had happened. "Yes, I'm alive, now do ya mind moving so I can get up?" Dutifully, Roger stepped back as Yuri sat up, rubbing his red cheek. "Ugh...what happened?"

Roger shook his head. "Don't know. I was waiting for you to go in the house, but after about five minutes, I came out to see what was taking you so long and found you unconsciousness."

Yuri gave him a werid look. "Uh, Roger?"

"Yes?"

"What exactly is that machine supposed to do again?"

Now Roger was wearing a worried look. "Are you okay Yuri? That transporter might have taken a bit more outta of you then I expected."

"Just answer the question." Yuri said, a little annoyed.

"The essential purpose of the Transporter is to transport any item, living or otherwise to any destination that they chose."

"Anything else?"

Roger rubbed his goatee thinking. "Can't say. Though I did make it out of a lot of parts from one of my more unsuccessful devices. The World Deporter. I was trying to find a way to reach the different planes of existence. This is by no means the only one you know."

Groaning deep in his throat, Yuri slowly got to his feet. "Do me a favor. Ditch the machine and build a new one."

Roger crossed his arms, looking curious. Yuri continued. "I think that World Deporter was a bigger success then you thought." A small light entered Roger's eye. "Really?" Yuri closed his eyes, mentally cursing himself. "Quickly! We have to-what are you doing?" Yuri had walked into the spaceship house and was making his way determiningly down the stairs to the machine. "Yuri!" Roger shouted in dismay. Ignoring him, Yuri reached the machine and made to grab for a handful of wires when the the whole contraption suddenly wailed in a high pitch scream. Yuri backed up in worry. Bolts popped, and a box of blinking lights became too much for the box of cogwork it sat on. The whole thing jumped as a metal leg gave out and everything tilted and crashed to the floor. The sound of broken glass twinkled well with the metallic cling and crash as everything fell slowly in a domino effect. Slowly at first, but with growing momentum, the machine collapsed in on it's self into a jumbled mess of metal, wires, and the deafening sound of the breaking technology.

Yuri warily looked up at Roger, who was clutching the railing closest to the door. Odd choking sounds were emitting from his slack jaw.

His mind summed up one word for a situation like this. Uh-oh.


End file.
